B0031RSBSM EBOK

Eldkvarn concert on Saturday, and no one has seen her since. I know a girl who’s helping out with the course, and she just told me about it.”
    “Do you have someone visiting you this early?”
    “You mean this late.”
    “What’s her name?”
    “The girl who disappeared or my visitor?”
    “The one who’s missing, of course.”
    “Martina something or other.” Johan could hear Niklas murmuring to someone in the background. “Martina Flochten. She’s from the Netherlands.”
    “Flochten,” repeated Johan. “How old is she?”
    “Young. Twenty-something.”
    “Okay. Thanks.”
    Shit, what bad timing. There was nothing he would rather do than go over to see Emma and the baby, but he was the only TV reporter on the island. The story of a missing girl had to be checked out, even though the whole thing sounded a bit vague. He called the hospital, and according to the nurse who answered, Emma and the baby were fine. Both were asleep at the moment. They had stayed at the maternity ward longer than planned because the breast-feeding hadn’t started the way it should.
    His concern must have been audible in his voice, because the nurse assured Johan that it was completely normal and nothing to worry about: The breast-feeding would undoubtedly proceed as it was supposed to within a few days. He wondered if this was how his life was going to be, now that he’d become a father. Constant worry about all sorts of things.
    It was eight forty-five. He phoned Knutas but was told that the superintendent would be busy all morning, and no one could or would say anything about the missing young woman. He took a shower, shaved, and gulped down a cup of coffee and ate a piece of toast. Then he called Pia. She could pick him up in fifteen minutes. They decided to drive straight out to the Warfsholm hotel and youth hostel.
    * * *
    The hotel consisted of a late-nineteenth-century wooden building painted yellow, with a lovely tower. It stood on a headland overlooking the sea. On one side of the building was an idyllic sandy beach. Beyond it could be seen the bird sanctuary at Vivesholm, where the spit of land stuck straight out into the water. On the other side of the building was the harbor, which, with its silos and wind-power station, formed a sharp contrast to the beach.
    When Johan and Pia got out of the car in the parking lot, they discovered a police car. Two uniformed officers were walking along the beach and talking to families with children. The news team went down to the water and admired the view of the nature preserve on the islands of Big Karlsö and Little Karlsö.
    “What’s that?” asked Johan, pointing at something that was sticking out of the water just beyond the harbor entrance.
    “That’s the wreck from a freighter, the
Benguela
, that went aground out there. It must have been at least twenty years ago now.”
    “What happened?”
    “The freighter was coming from Södertälje, on its way to Klintehamn. The accident happened in the winter. I think it was early morning. It was foggy, with a strong wind, and the vessel went aground so hard that they couldn’t get her to budge.”
    “What about the crew?”
    “I think they all made it, actually.”
    “Why hasn’t she ever been salvaged?”
    “There was something about a loophole in the law that meant the shipping company couldn’t be held responsible, and the owner didn’t feel he could afford to have the boat towed away. That’s why it’s still there.”
    “Incredible.” Johan shook his head.
    “Yes, isn’t it? You used to be able to see a lot more of the boat. She seems to be rusting apart. It won’t be long before she completely disappears below the surface.”
    For the time being they decided not to bother the police officers and walked up to the hotel entrance. They had made an appointment to meet with the manager, Kerstin Bodin. She was a slender, dark-haired woman who gave them a smile but looked tired.
    They sat down in the outdoor section of the restaurant, with a view of the harbor. Pia didn’t have the patience to sit still, so she went off with her camera.
    “This is so unpleasant,” said Kerstin. “Of course, it’s not certain that anything awful has happened to her, but what if it has? I’m terrified that they’re going to find her drowned out there. It’s impossible to say what happened. She was apparently very drunk when she left.”
    “Do you know Martina?”
    “We’ve talked a good deal. I’ve had more